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Fighting once more. Her husband always started fights. It felt like a daily routine that kept him busy. It was the same old: he got in her face, and she wept until he ran out the door in a moment of rage and annoyance. Every time he'd up and leave, she'd check on her children, Silent and Dea- who? No no, it's Razzle and Dazzle. Who would ever name their children Silent and Deadly?

She'd hold them, comfort them, tell them that everything will be fine as long as she was there. As long as she still had her head screwed on tight. And she kept the promise that she would have it screwed on tight for as long as they're living with her.

She'd try to play games with her sons, she'd bake them tasty treats, and even tried to sing songs for them, despite her poor vocals. Even with how it sounded, the twins always listened with peace. Why? Because they knew no one would ever sound like their mother.

Again. Same routine. Shouting, screaming, and crying. She expected him to stomp out the door again until he shoved her out the way, causing her to fall on the ground. She rubs her bottom before looking at where he was going. The twins' room. She lost all thoughts in that moment. All but one thought. Protect her babies.

She pulled herself back up, grabbing the chair for support before running as fast as she could to protect her children. She didn't care if she was endangering herself. The innocence of her sons was not allowed to be shattered.

Before he could land a hit on any of them, she managed to grab them and immediately started to shout at him, holding them behind her back and screaming at him like a lunatic. She doesn't play about her babies. Her sons. "DO NOT TOUCH MY BABIES."